I don’t know if I’ll be able to write another entry ever again. I feel I’m nearing the end; I’m having trouble visualizing a scenario where I come out of this sane, or even alive. So, if this is the last piece of writing I end up doing, thank you to all who’ve invested their time into my works. I’m thankful for that. Maybe people will pass this around as a ‘creepypasta’ or something. Either way, thank you for reading this, whether you know me, and you are reading this as my final minutes, or you’re just sitting in the dark, enjoying a creepy story. That’s all I ever wanted, for people to read what I wrote.

I think I may have lost a day during this, today is Sunday, but I don’t remember Saturday… So much has happened, I don’t even know how I can keep my fingers moving. I can barely see the words I’m typing, my vision obscured by great wells of tears. My life has fallen apart, and I know no matter how this ends, I’ll never be able to put it back together. I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s go back, when I was still sitting in McDonalds.

I closed my laptop, sticking the tiny thing into my backpack. I sat in a red and yellow booth, across from my shaking girlfriend. I knew what she felt, I had just felt the same a few minutes ago. Now, though, it took everything I had to stop myself from tearing this stupid fast food restaurant apart. At a certain point, you get tired of fear, of things fucking with you. This thing, whatever it is, may be a powerful supernatural force, but I wasn’t going to leave this Earth without fucking it up a little.

My girlfriend, and I went back to our car to smoke a cigarette and think before we went to the church. As I lit my cigarette, I remembered that pen skittering across the paper. I smacked my head for almost forgetting; I pulled it from my backpack, and began to read. (I don’t have the paper anymore, so the following is from memory.)

“To Alex:

It wants you. It always has, and it always will. It will get you, and I fear I cannot protect you for much longer. Wesley still has a chance, he’s not fully gone yet. If you save him, you two together may have a chance to restrain it. That’s the best you can hope for, beating it isn’t an option. I am near my end, it has been a point of pride, protecting you all. By the way, when was her last period?”

I started crying again. I have no idea why, but I just couldn’t help it. As I read each word, I immediately felt a strong connection to its writer. I know what you are thinking, ‘Hey idiot, it could be a lie, that thing could have written it,’ and I suppose you could be right. I knew it wasn’t a ploy by it though, I couldn’t begin to tell you how I knew, but I just could tell. Whoever/Whatever penned this letter, meant it sincerely.

Regardless of who wrote it, it was vague as shit. I reread it over and over, trying to decipher it. The last question, though, wasn’t too hard to figure out.

“When was your last period?”

My girlfriend just stared at me. Shit.

We pulled into the pharmacy as I finished my second pack of the day. I packed the third, as she went in for a pregnancy test. I’m not going to sit here, and build suspense. You can probably guess what we were there for, and you can probably guess the results. Just in case you’re slow: pregnancy test, fucking positive.

Not only did I have an evil thing trying to destroy my friends, and I to worry about, but I also had to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with a kid. I mean, I’m twenty for fuck sake, I can’t even go to a bar yet. I just realized I have probably lost my job, since it’s been days since I last talked to them. Having a kid is definitely something I didn’t need, especially during all this shit.

After seeing the test, not believing it, and buying five more tests, I sat and looked at the pink lines, smily faces, and a plus sign covering the sticks that laid on my lap. We both cried again. I don’t remember another day in my life where I’ve shed as many tears. We sat in the pharmacy parking lot for a while. It was all we could do.

Now I had another choice on my shoulders. Leave my girlfriend somewhere else, or bring her with me. I know what is probably the more chivalrous, but fuck you, I didn’t want to do this alone. Plus, there’s no way I could protect her if she was hiding somewhere else. So, we set off, in silence, to the church.

The church on Robindale is the least scary church I’ve ever seen. It’s a decent size, but it’s got none of the history those east coast churches have. So I didn’t feel so bad when we pulled up to it. I am not a religious man, but I have to admit, I said a small prayer as we got out of our car. I gripped my girlfriend’s hand tight, as we walked up the steps. We tried the front doors, locked, as to be expected. The church closed pretty early, but I didn’t think it’d be hard to get into to. I started looking for another way in, when I heard it.

Heavy breathing, right near my ear. In. Out. In. Out. I shivered again, and felt something brush my arm as I stumbled away from whatever stood next to me. The doors bursted wide open, one even falling from its hinges. I heard loud footsteps barrel away from us, and a soft whimper go with it. I took a few tentative steps into the church, and saw one person, sitting on a pew near the front. I couldn’t tell if it was Wesley, or someone else.

“Wesley?” I called into the church. The person simply shivered in response.

I motioned for my girlfriend to stay near the door. I started to walk away, but I stopped for a second. I turned around and kissed her, because when shit is hitting the fan, kissing someone you love can help you grow the balls to deal with it. I called out again, but the attempt turned out to be futile. I reached the row of pews it sat in, and leaned forward to get a glance at the shadowy figure.

The figure snapped its head toward me, and screamed, “You left the cross, you idiot, it can touch you! It can touch you!”

My heart wanted the fuck out of my chest, but I willed it to slow it’s neck-break pace, and said, “Wes! Hey, we need to talk. Maybe we can start to figure this shit out together.”

Wesley hissed at me, I shit you not, he literally let out a fucking hiss. Like a snake. He immediately fell to his knees, and started praying. I listened to the words, but I found that it was all in a language I had never even heard. It took all I had not to run for my life.

“Wesley, there’s crucifixes all over the place in here. This is a house of Christ, or God, or whatever. I think I’m safe.”

He looked up to me, tears welled in his eyes, and said, “It’s not Christ who can protect you. It’s apart of its conditions. It has to give us a way to hide from it.”

I pushed him down into the pew, and took a seat next to him, “Dude, you need to calm down. What are its conditions? What is it?”

Wesley cried for a while, before responding, “I don’t know. I don’t know. It talks to me. It makes me write things. I can’t keep food down anymore, I can’t think about anything else. All I do is pray now. I pray that Aaron, and Celina are okay, that it’ll leave them alone as long as they’re not with me.”

I didn’t want to agitate him, but my ears perked once I heard he’d been writing, and I grabbed him, “What did it make you write? Do you have it on you?”

He shuddered, and sobbed for a few moments. After he calmed down a bit, he nodded. He started to rummage through the backpack on the ground next to him. My girlfriend still stood by the doors of the church. I figured we were pretty safe, so I motioned for her to come inside. By the time she joined us, Wesley had pulled a thick notebook from his bag.

“I threw the pen away, I don’t want to write anymore. I’m so tired, Alex, so tired,” He rocked back and forth as the he said the words.

I patted his back, and said, “Don’t worry, after this, we’ll go to a hotel, and you can get some sleep.”

He nodded, and handed the notebook over. My girlfriend leaned over my shoulder, as eager as I was to get some answers from all this. I flipped it open to the first page, and practically screamed.

First of all, the handwriting was impeccable, just like the writing I saw all over my wall. Each word was written in a curvaceous script, flowing through the page. The only problem was that every other word was one I had never seen before. Things like Argalden, Delatri, Mopetussum, Carrakinian; all of which I have no fucking clue what language it belonged to. I noticed some patterns though, and it didn’t seem like each word was from the same language. A hodgepodge of words, all sounding older than anything I had ever heard of. Between each word, in all capital letters, sat the word ‘MINE’. I groaned audibly, as this offered no insight into what the fuck we were dealing with.

Then I started flipping the pages. At first, it was all just a jumble of foreign words, but then I started seeing things I recognized. Neferet, an ancient egyptian name, started popping up here and there, with ‘MINE’ next to it, as always. Then , Achilles, and even a few Alexanders. Realization dawned on me, and I felt my legs give way, and I slid to the ground. I pulled myself out into the center aisle, and heaved. I threw up, right in front of a statue of Jesus hanging from the cross. Tears mixed with vomit, and I heard my girlfriend crying too, but it sounded far away.

Names. They were all names. Old names, many which I had never heard of. All had the word ‘MINE’ next to them. Whatever this thing was, it was older than written history. Which, to me, meant it was powerful enough to endure through countless centuries, taking people as civilizations came and went. There was no hope. It would own us, just like the millions, if this book’s sheer amount of names was anything to go off of, who came before us.

After a long period of time, my stomach released all of the McDonald’s I consumed. I wiped my mouth, and walked back to the open notebook, between my sobbing friend, and girlfriend. I grabbed the damned thing, and flipped it to the last page. The names kept going until about halfway through the page. Five names sat on their own lines, each missing the ‘MINE’ that was attached to every other name in the book.

Wesley

Aaron

Alexander

Alensia

Vaelin

My best friend, his child, myself, and my girlfriend. Those names didn’t bother me. It was the last one that stopped my heart. Vaelin is the name of a character in one of my favorite books, and I always planned to name my son that. The thing is, the only person who knew that, was Alensia, and she isn’t the type to tell people that kind of thing. Only her, and I knew that, and we hadn’t mentioned it to each other in a long time.

It felt like waves crashed down on me. I couldn’t get a breath, my face drenched in tears. I shook, unable to handle this. My life being over was one thing. I had twenty years, I experienced the ups and downs that life had to offer. My son didn’t even have a heartbeat yet. He was doomed from the moment he became multi-cellular. I felt broken, and I was tired of being jerked around by something I couldn’t even see.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! I’m not fucking scared of you. You’re not taking my son, I’ll fucking destroy you if you try. I don’t care what the fuck you are, you pussy. Come down here, and I’ll fuck you up. You think you can take whatever you fucking want? I don’t care if a trillion people have lost their lives to you! I’ll be the last person you ever fucked with, you fucking bitch!” I screamed, louder than I ever have. I started kicking the pews, my head turned towards the sky, taunting a being I knew nothing about.

The church shuddered. I am not being hyperbolic, the church literally shuddered. I felt a pressure fill the air around me, an electricity bearing down against me. I didn’t care, I wanted that thing to come. I got my wish.

The church doors slammed closed. I regretted my words in an instant. The last few rows of pews slid into the aisle, the wood cracking, and splintering into a thousand pieces. Loud footsteps hit the ground, sending a spiderweb of cracks through the marble floor of the church. The pressure increased, and it felt like someone had placed my head into a vice grip. I cried out, and the large statue of Jesus began to melt. The statue sagged from the huge metal crucifix, and the pressure grew greater still.

Laughing filled my ears, not just one person laughing, though, it sounded like thousands upon thousands. It became louder and louder, and the cracks in the ground appeared closer and closer to me. I looked to my left, and saw Wesley on the ground shaking uncontrollably, and Alensia screaming as she dug her fingernails deep into her beautiful face. I couldn’t hear her, but I watched the blood pour down from the deep cuts she inflicted on herself. All I heard was laughing. The stained glass windows shattered in, and the wooden pews slid across the floor, splintering into more and more pieces.

I watched the cracks in the ground, as they came closer and closer with every second that ticked away. Whatever was making them was only a few feet away from me now. My eyeballs threatened to escape their sockets, and I felt blood fall from my nose. I screamed, and pain became everything I knew for a brief moment.

Then I felt another pressure against me, from behind. It blasted me out of the way, and I heard a loud clap. I couldn’t see the invisible forces around me, but I could feel their fight. Pews snapped like twigs, and the laughing turned to screams. The large lights that hung above us fell to the earth. Glass exploded outward, and I watched it slap against the invisible things doing battle in front of me.

I heard the sound of pipes bursting, and then water poured from the ceiling, spraying against the innards of the church. Enough water crashed against the two entities locked in battle, that I could make out their forms. The one that pushed me out of the way, was small, probably about my height, and definitely humanoid in figure. The other…wasn’t. It stood at least twice as high as the other, and it had hundreds of appendages jutting from it’s body.

The fight seemed to last an eternity, but all of a sudden, everything exploded outwards from their battle. I flew in the air, and hit the metal fence blocking unwanted hands from the statue of Jesus. Alensia, and Wesley flew towards the side of the building, along with bits of wood, marble, and glass. A thousand sounds screamed in my ear, and then all at once, they were gone.

I laid there for a while, looking at where they fought. The area of their battle was clear of debris, but the ground had been severely cracked, and bits of marble jutted every which way. The rest of the church looked as if a bomb went off. The bedlam blanketed the church. It took me a while to get up, and once I stood, I immediately regretted it. Something had been broken, I knew it. I managed to crawl over the destruction, and I reached Wesley, and Alensia. I pulled them from the debris, and we surveyed ourselves for injuries. Blood covered the entire side of wes’ head, and he acted very delusional, stumbling around, unable to find his footing. Alensia wasn’t as bad, but her leg was definitely broken. I propped her against me, and we made our way out of the church. Somehow, Wesley had kept a hold on his backpack, and the notebook survived the chaos.

We all piled into the car, and drove to the hospital. I’m in the waiting room right now, writing this all down while its still fresh, while I have the chance. I have a broken collar bone, and hundreds of minor abrasions. Alensia just finished getting her cast, and Wes is still being seen for his head. The doctors all asked what happened, but I didn’t know what to tell them. There’s no one who will believe this, not even you, the reader.

As for the missing day, I have no idea where it went. I don’t think I spent an entire day in that church, but I must have for the timing off all of this to make sense. The entire church thing felt like it lasted thirty seconds. I don’t know. It hurts my head trying to think about it. I guess it isn’t really the most important thing right now, but it’s really bothering me, losing a day like that. Fuck.

I know that it seems like its over, but I can’t help but think its not. It was too easy. Whatever happened, it just impeded that thing for a little while, its not done with. This isn’t the last time it and I will meet, I know that for sure. Whatever helped us in the church, all it did was buy us time. It’s up to us to use that time wisely, so that when it comes back, we’ll be ready for it. I taunted it, and I’m sure that it won’t rest until it gets what it wants. I don’t know what will happen to me the next time we meet, but I’ll be ready.